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He pulled me forward, then placed a quick, hard kiss on my mouth. “Let’s talk through it.”
My brows rose. “What?”
“What would make you feel safer? More secure in our relationship? What do you need me to do to make sure that you feel comfortable again?” he asked.
And I just… breathed. For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to really comprehend what he was trying to tell me.
For the first time in years, I allowed myself to… feel.
“I don’t…” I looked down at the soap that was running along his body. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do. I think this is all something I’m going to have to overcome on my end. There’s a lot of pent up feelings, and it’s just going to take time and…”
“And you need me to prove that I’m telling the truth.” He lifted his hand and ran his fingers along my jaw, his eyes inspecting every inch of my face before settling his gaze on mine. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I’m going to stay. As long as you let me have a chance.”
I leaned up to my tiptoes and kissed him.
The kiss was deep and all consuming.
I let him feel everything that I’d been hiding over the last couple of years—and hell, even more so in the last couple of weeks. I poured every last ounce of my love, my fear, my hopes and dreams, into the kiss.
His hands went around my waist, pulling me in tighter.
His lips pressed harder on mine and slanted, deepening the kiss, and my toes curled.
The soap that was in my hand dropped to the floor, forgotten and discarded.
His hands went to my ass, and in between one breath and the next, I had my back pressed against the wall.
The heated wall.
It was warm, and not cold at all, as he pressed me deeper into the tiles, allowing me to feel the length of his cock press against my sex.
“Are you okay with where this is going?” he asked, making my heart melt. “This could get out of hand fast if…”
I fisted both hands in his hair, pulling his head back so that I could look into his eyes when I said, “I’m healed. The doctor cleared me two weeks ago, remember? And, just sayin’, but I think that this is the first step in fixing it.”
Fixing me.
He wound his hand around my wet hair, the black strands looking shocking against the tanned skin of his hand as he pulled me in close. “You’re not broken.”
I loved that he could read me so clearly.
“I can’t give you kids,” I said, sounding just as broken as I felt.
He shifted his hips, and then there he was, sliding into me where he was always meant to be.
I groaned at the feel of his cock filling me up so completely.
Everything was just so right when we were together.
His cock, thick and hard, spread me so wide that I always thought I was going to burst. But he was so gentle and sweet at first, allowing me to get used to his girth and his length before giving me everything.
To this day, he was careful to always take me slowly because he didn’t want to inadvertently hurt me, especially when I wouldn’t be able to know he was hurting me.
He did no differently today.
His cock filled me so slowly.
Too slowly.
